The Fat Lady at the end of the Seventh Floor corridor was furious.
Eight students had slipped out in a single night, and Filch had caught four of them red-handed.
Her furious glare made the four who had escaped feel thoroughly aggrieved.
"You two little troublemakers are one thing—
Vincent, why didn't you stop them?"
Hermione raised her little head pitifully. "Madam, I told them many times, but they wouldn't listen to me."
"Of course they wouldn't listen!" The Fat Lady shifted her wide eyes toward them. "We're Gryffindor—Little Lions who won't listen until they've been beaten black and blue."
"Pfft—" Vincent laughed rather shamelessly.
Before those big eyes turned back to him, he made a very sincere promise.
First, the four Little Lions who had been caught would definitely learn their lesson from now on.
Second, any Gryffindor student sneaking out at night would have to submit to the four of them secretly keeping watch.
"Good, you know what's good for you." The Fat Lady opened the door.
Under three pairs of strange gazes, Vincent walked inside with complete composure.
"Quirrell has come out of the dungeons." George spread the Marauder's Map across a table.
Snape, who had been following behind them the whole time, was still wandering around the dungeons.
"He actually managed to shake off the Old Bat!" Fred clicked his tongue in amazement.
"In a sense, it wasn't that we weren't strong enough. Quirrell was just too fast at running away."
"Running away?" Hermione suddenly looked up, her eyes sweeping over the three somewhat frightened boys one by one.
"Vincent, do you remember the first time you appeared in the newspaper?"
Of course he knew why.
The item stolen from Gringotts still had not been placed in the Mirror of Erised by Dumbledore.
"On July 31st,